4AM Ice Cream Adventure
by Mozu The Mochi
Summary: @matsomaito 's trade request : It's 4AM, Tweek's craving for ice cream. The two went into a searching spree, but the only thing they got was ramen. It's good enough.


**Author's Note : Gonna take a break from angst-writing here's a potential Christmas special for you guys, and this is a trade for Creek arts I requested. Follow her on instagram : matsomaito_!**

 **She draws a cover for The Boy Who Sees Monster!**

 **4AM Ice Cream Adventure**

 **FOR**

 **matsomaito_**

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 **.**

 **.**

 **CHRISTMAS SPECIAL**

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True, their relationship was accidental. They never were friends to begin with, they never talked to each other as much as they talked to other people in their grade until the whole incident happened.

Wendy Testaburgers was indeed a bitch. A stuck up, know-it-all bitch. Somehow similar to her boyfriend, Stan Marsh or close enough to have a few resemblance to Kyle Broflovski, but a girl version (which seemed to be more annoying) of a bitch.

Still, thanks to Wendy Testaburgers; Tweek Tweak and Craig Tucker, who became the hottest guy in school somehow, turned out to be gay.

For each other.

Incidentally.

Though, that was about seven years ago. Now that they were in senior year of high school, and was about to graduate in another six months, the blond and the noirette had basically been stuck to each other.

Tweek had grown out of his unkempt, wild golden locks — now, in small sunshine curls which Craig tried his best to comb every day. He was still slightly skinny, but his figure had been lanky with the right proportion of muscles from kickboxing practice — "I-it's for self-defense!" he claimed — but he was, unfortunately, the shortest out of all boys in his grade, only growing up to 5"3. The blond had grown out of his coffee addiction, thanks to his boyfriend as well, since his parents were pleaded and scolded by Craig himself to stop forcing him to be the coffee tester, and feed him coffee 24/7. He still drank occasionally, but under the noirette's supervision, his limit was three cups a week.

Craig, however, still kept his chullo hat around, but this time it was a black one with a bright golden puffball ("Looks like your hair, honey," he had said upon the purchase. The blond yelped, blushing furiously but he was flattered nonetheles). Growing out as a quarterback and often did kickboxing with Tweek, his built was muscular and he was as tall as 6"1, and he could carry the blond with ease most of the times. Being with Tweek for several years, Craig had outgrown himself from the cynical, stoic kid who flipped his middle finger to the whole neighbourhood to a nonchalant teen who still held a bad boy aura. The girls had always swooned as he passed by the hallways, but he paid no mind to them — instead claiming them as _thirsty hoes_ much to Clyde's disdain — and he'd ushered his way to Tweek's locker.

For them, school was plain and boring lest Stan and his gang did some random, shitty trouble which involved the whole school, or the whole neighbourhood — heck, the entire nation brewing into war was another possibility. Nevertheless, spending their time kissing in the hallways, having dates in amusement park or Stark's pond, spending Christmas and Thanksgiving in each others' houses consecutively; their life could be no more than perfect.

It was perfect.

But they didn't just stop there — oh no, it got better. One day, Craig suddenly appeared in front of Tweek's house looking extremely excited despite the usual deadpan look on his visage.

"What is it, Craig?" It was 6AM, and it was Saturday. He should still be in bed, curling underneath his thin blanket (Tweek seemed to have an immunity to cold), then again it was summer before senior year.

The noirette grabbed both of his hands, pulling him slightly to the outside path, much to Tweek's disdain. Screw Randy tending to the garden outside, or other of Tweek's neighbours loitering around the streets, Craig had wrapped his arms around Tweek, almost carrying him. Fingers curling around tufts of lemon sunshine tones, enjoying the silky feeling to them, trailing against the cherub of alabaster white skin, and pecked the succulent lips into a chaste kiss.

"Mmf — Craig, honey!" Tweek held on his chest, fingers trailing Craig's collarbone — he realised he was up on the air, Craig's strong arm holding him securely — "What the heck happened? Did Stripe #9 gets a baby with Gwen The Third?"

"No, even better," he grinned, deep blue eyes savouring the emerald green. Tweek blushed.

"Then?"

"My father," he breathed, "He decided he didn't want to rent out the apartment by the town any longer, and so he's allowing me to stay there if we decide to go to college nearby. But he had given me the keys this morning. . ."

Tweek knew where this was going. To be honest, he was excited as well. His heart was thumping, at that moment, the groggy feeling was all gone. Cheeks flushing, pursed lips curling into a smile, he was excited as well.

"Would you like to move in with me as well?" Craig finished his explanation. The coffee lover could not wait anymore, he kissed the noirette again, his hand pushing Craig's hat onto the ground.

When they parted, Tweek was still beaming. "Of course!"

And so, that was how the two lovers came to a conclusion of living together. Their lives became even perfect, despite their long relationship, Craig could still feel the excitement of seeing Tweek in part of his life.

They explored more of each other even more. The whimsical habits they have, making up their morning routine, becoming like parents for their guinea pigs. For instance, Craig liked the idea of having sex — lots and lots of sex — in every corner of their houses. They've done it in the kitchen, leaving Tweek with a half-burnt dinner (you could say Craig had his fill, heh), on three consecutive couches in the living room, the armchair as well, their bedroom obviously, somewhat the store room as well. The noirette liked living little notes before going to football practice, and the blond did not have the heart to peel them off, so their wall became a sticky note art gallery.

On the other hand, Tweek adored trinkets and bric-a-brac, weird shit they could find in antique stores. Pretty much, at some point, there was a corner reserved for the fidgety sunshine to have his sacred hall of random, useless junk. Craig was sort of annoyed but seeing the blond beaming with a smile as he placed a newly-purchased 1960s porcelain china by the surface, he couldn't resist pampering his cherubic cheeks with light kisses. He was adorable, that way.

And Tweek had another habit. Seeing that he was skinny and all, it wasn't that he skipped any meals or so on. . . It was because of his irregular pattern, and sudden cravings of food. Craig often teased him for being pregnant, and well, the blond relinquished toward that idea secretly but they were both males (they could have adopted children, though) so he remained silent about it.

The bad thing was his pleads for certain food often came around early morning, when the moon was still bright up, and the town shops and mall saved for 7-11 were closed.

It happened again, on 4AM — it was a sharp four, Craig swore — when he heard a whimper and a shift from his arms. He felt his right arm suddenly lifted from the pressure, and the shampoo fragrance missing from his senses. Groggily, Craig peeled open his eyes to see Tweek Tweak getting dressed with a jacket, keeping his pajama shorts intact.

The noirette quirked one brow, "What is it this time, darling?"

"G-gah!" He jumped from the sudden question, turning around the blond sighed when it was just Craig waking up from his slumber. "I. . . uh. . . want some ice cream. . ."

"Did you checked the fridge, honey?"

He nodded, pursing his lips. "Y-yeah. . . we had strawberry-flavoured, b-but I want chocolate."

If it would be his other friends whining about it — if it would have been Token, Clyde or Jimmy — he wouldn't have cared enough to budge from his comfortable spot. Presumably, he'd bitch about it ("Suck it up, and deal with it," words which became his trademark).

But this was Tweek. Tweek Tweak with large, doe eyes. Tweek Tweak, fidgeting shyly and succumbing to an anxious fit about how he would get scolded. Tweek Tweak, his adorable, lovable love of his life — and he'd do anything for Tweek Tweak, even if it was searching for chocolate ice cream around four in the morning.

"I — I'm sorry if it's too troublesome. . . Hnnn gah! It is troublesome, and you're sleepy after all, and you have football practice too — I'll just eat the strawberry one in the fridge!" The blond was wailing, his habit of pulling his hair becoming more prominent the longer he babbled.

Craig got up from the bed and peeled his hands slowly from the golden tufts, his concern for the precious mass of sunshine hair peeking; the noirette placed innocent pecks on his hands, before landing one at the tip of Tweek's nose. "Babe. . ." he drawled on the pet name, blue eyes tender from the gaze, "It's alright." He spoke languid and calm. "I'm not mad at you, okay?"

Tweek was still fidgeting, but the quiver wasn't as strong as just now, his eyes large and wavered, the emerald shone within the dark. "Y-you sure?"

"Yes, honey, I'm sure."

The dark-haired boy could have sworn he was almost witnessing the flatter in Tweek's visage could drive him to tears in any moment. When Tweek was happy, he glowed — like _glowed_ — like a motherfucking sunshine he was, the bright emerald hue, like polished jewels, became more prominent, his pale skin lit up to a sweeping streak of scarlet, it showed his freckles like dots of stars on his skin. He was beautiful when he was in joy, and Craig didn't want to admit, his heart was rocking in his chest like a good rock and roll song — he could beat up ten guys and won ten million dollars or something and he would still be happy because of Tweek's smile.

The blond pulled him into a tight embrace, lanky arms curling against his build. "Thank you, _sweetheart_."

Oh Jesus. Oh Lord.

Pet names meant joie de vivre to them both, especially to Tweek. He was bursting with a bubbly aura that he stopped twitching, instead was squirming with every bit of love to his boyfriend. Pet names meant everything for Craig Tucker, that meant Craig Jr which was tenting underneath as well, but he kept his hormones under control — ice cream comes first after all (and no, god no. . . he's not thinking of those kinky things at the moment).

Dressing up, the two of them left their apartment to look around for opened, twenty-four hour store. 7-11 was far for a walk, being in another part of the town, much to their dismay. Tweek was promised a car from his parents, since they wanted to buy a new sedan — their coffee business going well in two cities — so the MPV they were using currently was gifted to him. But only after graduation.

It sucks. . .

But for now, walking wasn't a bad idea.

Christmas was going to be around a couple more days. By now, Colorado was buried with snow — not that it wasn't cold as it usually was. Thick silver coatings lavished the side of the streets, roofs coated with the same plain shade. There was a snowman at few houses, one of them were surprisingly made by Stan, Kyle and Kenny; God knows why they were building one at the age of seventeen.

Wrapped in their own coats and scarves, the two of them still opted to hold hands as they walked. Their first gesture as a couple, after all, and it began ever since the two of them decided to continue their pretense. The blond adored the warmth from Craig, his hand-gripping wasn't the strong, but it made him felt the most secure.

"I can't see any opened shops," huffed the boy with a chullo hat.

"Yeah. . . me neither," Tweek lowered his head, slightly disappointed. His tongue was still craving the sweetness of chocolate melting in his mouth, the rough texture of ice cream, he haven't had one since around three months ago. Then again, it was winter — who the hell sells ice cream during winter?

"Hey, don't get upset. . ." Craig pressed his hand, "We're not giving up, are we honey?"

Tweek smiled warmly, "Of course not," he responded the squeeze, "Thanks again for coming with me, Craig.

"No problem, Tweekers. You know I'd do anything for you."

He removed his hand away, instead he circled one arm around Tweek and pulled him closer for a side embrace. It was much warmer that way.

They spent the next thirty minutes walking blocks after blocks of trudging against thick piles of snow and looking at closed shops and only flickering lamp posts as their path guidance, the two lovers decided to put their search to a stop.

Tweek was pretty much disappointed, his eyes drooping and his shoulders dropped. Without wariness, he reclined his head closer to Craig's shoulder.

"Y-you know Craig," he started, "I think it's too cold for ice cream anyway. . ."

The blond wouldn't want to trouble Craig any further, and Craig knew this. He saw the emerald eyes lowered, disappointment flashing in those doe pools. He wanted nothing more but to run to the other part of the city to 7-11 and buy him plenty of Magnum, as long as it would wipe away the sadness in him.

"Hey, I'm sure we'll find one. . ."

"No, Craig. . . We've been walking around the same blocks now."

"Are you sure, honey?" He held Tweek's hand.

Tweek nodded, attempting to smile. He released Craig's hand, hugging the noirette's arm for a brief while instead. "Come on, let's go."

They chose to walk back to their small apartment, still clinging to each other. It was a ten minutes walk, but with that kind of weather, the two took their time looking around and walked languidly. Walking alone in town had been a norm, especially with Tweek's random craving. Once they have walked all the way to Token's house for cereal milk since theirs ran out and he was crying for cereal. "W-what blasphemy?! How c-could you eat cereal without milk, Craig?!" Was what Tweek had panicked about that day.

Yet, somehow, they noticed a flicker of light somewhere near their apartment block. Wondering what it was, the two of them ushered closer.

It was then, the silhouette became clearer and the two saw Tuong Lu Kim cooking inside the food truck. There were two other customers, one who resided in the apartment as well, and the other being Jimbo. Craig raised one brow, staring at the supposedly Caucasian-turned-Asian man in the truck.

"Dude, I thought you have. . . City Sushi?"

"Oh, hello boys!" The trans-racial man greeted them with his Chinese accent, "Oh yes, City Sushi is opened until 10PM! Then, I start opening up ramen shop until 6AM."

"A-Aren't you tired? I — I mean, that's way too much pressure. . ."

"Oh no, no! People love ramen, I can make good money. Everyone is happy," he explained in a sense that Craig and Tweek could not falter at that moment.

The two shrugged the logic away. He glanced at Tweek, though flashing a smile and signaled him to the shop. The blond zoned out for a brief moment, before noticing a stare from his boyfriend before gesturing him a questioning look.

"Well, it's cold," Craig drawled on.

"Uh huh," the blond, still quirking his brows in a whimsical way, lowered his gaze to add more of that questioning, wonder effect. "It's getting late though, Craig."

"I thought you're hungry?"

"Well, not exactly hungry," he piped in, "Just craving for some cold stuffs, you know."

The downhearted look appeared once again, and Craig felt the squeeze in his chest. "I'm sorry for that, honey."

"It's not your fault."

"I know, sweetheart," he pulled Tweek lightly to the food truck, and offered him a seat, "Well, even if you're not hungry, I kinda am. So, will you accompany me, honey?"

It was Craig's turn to give the blond a set of puppy eyes. Though, Craig, who was a natural on being deadpanned attempted the large, puppy look in a funny way. His was the kind on which by lowering his face, and set a blue-eyed gaze in the most stoic (and funny) way. Tweek always found the look humourous, he wanted to let out a laugh. But he didn't want Craig to get offended. The blond huffed and smiled warmly, his hands reached out to Craig's head, pulled away his chullo hat and played with the short, obsidian tufts.

"Okay, _honey_." Tweek cooed, and he was sure Craig's face flushed a deep crimson upon the pet name. The blond using pet names was a rarity after all — sometimes, Craig theorised that it was a ghost possessing Tweek Tweak and decided to make him effectively flirtatious. Nonetheless, Craig liked him that way.

"Well, we'll order two plates of ramen, please," Craig said to the working man, he was still donning his City Sushi uniform with an addition of a coat.

Whilst Tuong tended to their order, Craig spent his time gazing upon the luscious green. Tweek noticed the look, and he stifled a laughter; "Oh fuck you, Craig. Don't look at me like that!"

Cracking a smile, he rested his forehead against the blond before placing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, "Fuck you too, honey."

They both knew the exclamation was close enough to a declaration of love after all.

 **THE END**

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 **Mozu : AHAHAHA I LOVE WRITING THIS FLUFFY FEELINGS. Too much of hand-holding and nose-kissing and name-calling, I must say.** **B** **ut I AM TRASH FOR THOSE. I'm sorry ahahahh**

 **The prompt my friend requested was like this : Tweek wanting to get ice cream around 3AM or 4AM and instead they get ramen. So the two of them, instead of saying the cheesy I-love-you, uses the "fuck you" term instead.**

 **They're unique that way.**

 **X for love, O for hate.**

 **-Mozu The Mochi (2017)**


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